Edgeworth's Dinner Party
by anit0523
Summary: A look into the childhood of Miles Edgeworth as he tries to understand the way of the von Karma house. WARNING! This story is full of steaks and trucks! No pairings.


I do not own Phoenix Wright. Dang.

Wow! This is my first fanfic in a long time. I think I am a much better writer now than I was back then. Anyway, for the revival of my Fanfiction account I have a Phoenix Wright story that was based on a conversation that was had when I ate some homemade chef salad with a friend. Basically it started with me saying "This looks like something Edgeworth would eat. Then we talked about his lack of manliness sometimes. We both decided to write a fic about it. Go read her fic when you are done with mine please. .com/art/Edgeworth-s-Dinner-Party-131426964

**Edgeworth's Dinner Party (Pending Title)**

**Initial Objection: Family and Turnabout, Edgeworth's Inquiry**

A young Miles Edgeworth began to toss the mixture of lettuces and other vegetables that sat in the large bowl before him with great pride in his work. He carefully he made out plates, one for each member of his adoptive family and began to add ham, turkey, and various other meats as well as numerous cheeses to the mix. Of course, he had been careful to size the portions on each person's plate accordingly and made sure to give Manfred von Karma a bit extra of everything while making sure his little sister received no tomatoes, which she despised with a passion. But the most important part of tonight's meal would be the dressing. He had a recipe that he recalled his father making once long ago for a homemade chef salad such as this. Miles never knew his father to be anything other than a lawyer, but this dressing was proof enough to him that his father could have been a master of the culinary arts hands down if law hadn't worked out for him. He had never tasted any sort of sauce that could even begin to compare to how amazing this dressing tasted, and he was going to make a perfect batch. If anything was going to impress the von Karmas, it would be this. He was sure of it.

Miles was not generally interested in cooking, but as a child living in the von Karma household, he was expected to be polite, cultured, and capable in many different trades. Naturally he knew how to do all sorts of things that are required fields of etiquette. Of course he had learned to be a gentleman, to dance with a lady, to prepare a meal, to do anything that was necessary of a higher class fellow. Many children in his situation would have probably have shut down under the immense pressure of the environment by now. He, however, found little challenge in doing these things as he was (and had always been) a bright young man who was taught well.

Of course, Miles was not going through all of this trouble for no reason. He had offered to make dinner and snatched up the opportunity to get on Manfred von Karma's good side. By now he knew well what he could and couldn't get away with doing or saying in front of his large and terrifying guardian, but if things were to go in his favor, then tonight was going to be an ample opportunity to bring up an otherwise unthinkable subject; a gift of sorts; a new companion; a puppy. Gregory Edgeworth was just one person in his family among many who loved dogs, so naturally Miles had a dog when he was younger. He grew up with lots of dogs and missed having one around. Anything that added a touch of normalcy to von Karma life was a plus, and he wanted this one.

Young Edgeworth laid out four heaping plates of salad onto the large table in the dining room. He was still a bit uncomfortable in the expensive looking dining room. It was the kind of place any child would feel uncomfortable no matter how wealthy they were. He could imagine himself dirtying and breaking everything in sight simply by existing in the same time-space as the extravagant décor. He set out a plate for Manfred von Karma first, as he was the head of the house, and then continued around the table. Franziska and his elder sister both received a plate and each thanked him, although the eight year old Fanziska seemed more interested in how colorful her salad was than anything else. He silently praised himself for all of the variety. Miles acknowledged the other sister's thanks as subtly as he could, trying to make sure that she saw him, but also trying to keep Mr. von Karma from noticing. Interestingly enough, although this girl had been introduced to him as his sister, he did not know her name, only that she made a point to be nothing like her father. Because of this, Manfred von Karma considered her a disappointment and often went out of his way to make sure no convenience was made for the girl. She was at least in her late teens and looked just like her sister. Of their mother, Miles knew nothing. All he knew is that she wasn't around, and based on the bags he had accidentally seen in his sister's closet he assumed that she was not going to be sticking around much longer either. She wasn't the only one who was tired of Manfred von Karma's cruel ways, but she was the only one who could escape them. There was no possible way for her to take Franzy and himself with her. Of that Miles was certain, but he was sure that if there was a way for his sister to take them, she would.

The four sat eating quietly. There was no family conversation in this house. Finally, after a long period of silence, Manfred von Karma looked up at his children and began to speak.

"This is a fine meal, Miles," he said. And with that, Miles jumped the gun.

"I'm glad you like it, sir," he said, "and I was hoping to ask you about something." Just as the words were leaving his lips, he realized that aside from a delicious dinner, he had absolutely no way of backing up an argument for a puppy, and stopped short. The man eyed him curiously and Miles began to cautiously continue. He was, after all, past the point of no return. Before he could say more, suddenly his little sister spoke up.

"Daddy, can I read more of your law books?" She asked. It was becoming a well known fact that the little girl was trying desperately to keep up with Miles in her studies, but her age caused Manfred to slow her down. After silencing and scolding the girl for her interruption (which she responded to by grumbling something about foolishness), Manfred looked to Miles to continue. Slowly, Miles began to speak again.

"Well…I think that…umm…FRANZISKA NEEDS A PUPPY!" The last part of the sentence was completely sudden. Manfred raised an eyebrow. "Franzy is going to be alone a lot more now that I am studying so much and I bet she gets lonely," Miles said, "and besides, I don't think she realizes what a burden those books are! She should have something to teach her a bit of responsibility so that she understands what trouble she is getting herself into." By now, Franziska was giving the two her full attention. She had unintentionally saved Miles from an argument gone wrong, and for that he was thankful, but he couldn't tell if her interest was at the possibility of getting a puppy or just at the fact that she was the topic of discussion.

Manfred seemed to consider this, and then replied. "Yes, I believe something to teach her some responsibility would be a good idea..." Miles' heart leapt. Finally, he would have a puppy of his own. He would name it Pesu and be the best owner around. "…but I don't believe a puppy is manly enough for her." And with that, Miles almost began to yell, a mistake when it was aimed at Mr. von Karma and also uncommon for him.

"Manly?!" He cried, "B-but sir…well Franziska _is_ a girl, so why would you want her to be manly?"

Manfred von Karma began to explain to young Miles that although Franziska is indeed a girl, she would need to learn to be a real von Karma, tough as nails on the inside, while keeping a prim and proper feminine exterior. By the long process that the man began to describe, it sounded as though it was truly an art to master. Miles silently celebrated his masculinity. Von Karma rambled for numerous minutes more about how Franziska _"already has a gentle nature allowing her to approach a wild rabbit without frightening it"_ and some other nonsense that (if there was any truth to it) Miles was completely in the dark about. He finally began to reach the point of his little speech saying that _"Franziska needs a pet that requires guts, firmness, authority, and strength…_" By this point, however, Miles had stopped paying attention long ago, until finally Manfred von Karma seemed to reach his climax and cleared his throat to make his final statement.

"So," Manfred announced, "I believe that my daughter should have a python instead." Everybody looked up from their meals, even the nameless sister, who would always choose to ignore what little conversation took place, if any.

"**What?!**" Miles immediately began to protest. Even if Franziska was given a puppy, he would be able see it and play with it. Sure she might be able to teach it to do some questionable and painful things to him, but Edgeworth was smart and could counter his little sister's efforts. A python, however, is not easily trained. His little demon of a sister with a python; He could just see the image in his head in a book of some sort…a dictionary or an encyclopedia. It was listed under the word "trouble" in size 48, bold, italicized, underlined, Arial font. He quickly assembled a list of cons and presented them.

"But a python could be dangerous," Miles stated, although Mr. von Karma sported a "she could take it" look, "and besides they eat mice! You wouldn't want your daughter handling such vile creatures, would you?" As a higher member of society, this line of thinking seemed to reach him, but it didn't change his mind until Miles mentioned the possibility of one getting away and breeding in the walls. Manfred von Karma always had important and powerful people around, and to have them see mice in his home was something that could not and would not happen.

After a thoughtful silence, Manfred announced that there would be no pets, and he would find another way to toughen up his daughter. He then looked to miles.

"Come to think of it, Miles, you also have to learn to be more macho than you are." Miles was stunned. "As much as I appreciate your colorful leafy dish, it was quite possibly the quaintest and most flowery meal I have ever eaten. I cannot have a son that comes from lollipop guild." The man stood up and towered over the boy. "I am going to teach you how to be manly," he said, "and to begin we must change you out of your childish clothing into something more adult and masculine. Tomorrow you will make dinner again, but rather than your pixie dust salad, you will make the manliest dish of all: Steak." And with that, he wiped his face and left the table, presumably to make young Edgeworth a new wardrobe and find a little something for his daughter.

"…well _that _was stupid." came the unfamiliar voice of the elder von Karma sister, also excusing herself from the table. Miles was always glad that girl had some sense, even if their interactions were rare and forbidden.

Miles turned his head away from the seat of the older von Karma girl just in time to catch Franziska glaring at him.

"What is it?" he asked softly, only to be answered in a loud and boisterous manner.

"**How could you be so foolish, Miles Edgeworth, you foolishly foolish fool filled with foolish words and foolish ideas about foolishly foolish things! If YOU hadn't been so incredibly foolish, then I could have had a python!"** She continued for numerous minutes to abuse the word "fool" and its derivatives while young Edgeworth wondered if every von Karma was so incredibly long winded, and he could tell that one day Franziska would be just as scary as her father.

**OBJECTION 2: Turnabout Manliness**

Manfred von Karma's personal abode was rather frightening to Miles. Perhaps it was the size and class that threatened him much like the large dining room (or anywhere else on the estate), or perhaps it was his general fear of the man himself. Edgeworth could not be certain. He had been in the older man's room for hours trying on clothes that had been especially chosen for him. He threw away his "childish" clothes and replaced them with lots of little suits and nice shoes that made him look sophisticated. Miles had to admit, he rather liked his new garb, but the color threw him off a bit. It was a cranberry like color that could easily be taken for pink. When he had asked von Karma why he had chosen the color, he claimed that maroon was, in his time, considered a manly color and is still seen as such. He then continued to state that the new generation of boys seemed to find the color pink manly (Miles guessed he probably saw a tee shirt that said "Real Men Wear Pink" and took it seriously) so not only would he fit in with his little cranberry suit in the present day, he would also remain manly with the changing fashions of the future. At this, Miles was shocked to realize that even Manfred von Karma was capable of senior moments. The two struggled over a cravat, which Miles had always worn. Manfred claimed that Miles' cravat looked silly and had too many frills. When Miles pointed out that Manfred also wore a cravat, he claimed that it only existed for the sake of elegance, which the two were not trying to cover at the time. Manliness was the current subject, and a cravat was not manly, but Miles insisted on keeping it. Von Karma insisted that he would change his mind, and Miles was sure it was true (as von Karma had a way of changing your mind for you), but he wanted to preserve what little of himself he had left.

"Have you prepared the cuts of steak, Miles?" von Karma asked.

"Yes sir," Miles replied, "they are marinating and I will put them in the oven soon." Manfred praised him briefly and picked up a small cloth bag. He said that the contents was something special that he put in his steaks, and went to add them to his cut of meat to be cooked.

Having changed into his new cranberry suit, his nice shoes, and his usual cravat, he turned to leave the room when he spotted some envelopes. He recognized the addresses and writing on the front of each to be those of his old friends Larry and Phoenix from back in America. He was told he was not allowed to write back to them or talk to any of his American friends anymore. The letters on top were fairly recent, although the dates that the boys had written on the envelopes became more and more spaced apart over time. The fact that the two even bothered to write at all anymore amazed him. Looking about himself and seeing no sign of intrusion, he snatched the top letter and stuffed it into his pocket.

Mischief? It didn't seem Edgeworth's style, but who could say, really?

The boy scurried down the steps and into the kitchen and began to put the cuts of steak into the oven to broil. Manfred von Karma's cut was fairly large to begin with and was now bulging in some areas, although he was uncertain why, he assumed it had to do with his ingredient. There were little things covered in sauce stuffed into the steak. He could not identify them, but they were all lodged deep inside the massive hunk of steak. (His was much larger than anybody else's) Not one of the "ingredients" was larger than an average bar of soap, but none smaller than a miniature chocolate bar. Miles pushed the broiling pan inside and closed the oven, paying it no more mind.

He walked into the dining room, surprised to see his family already there and sat down. "It will probably be a short while before dinner" he told them. Mr. von Karma did not seem concerned about the time and began to speak.

"Because of yesterday's discussion, I have decided that my daughter needs something that she can learn confidence, manliness, and responsibility from." He did not specify which daughter, although it was obvious to all who were present. The elder von Karma girl may as well have been the milkman's child. Still, she didn't seem to care how he felt about her. She knew he was in the wrong, but also knew how to stay in her place and compete with small acts of rebellion. Manfred continued. "I believe that she needs a pastime of sorts. It must be something that she can focus on excelling at in order to learn those things."

Miles began to catch on. "Is she going to play a sport?" he asked. Manfred did not answer, but his face seemed to say "sort of" and he instead handed Franziska a box. She opened it to find a short whip inside. The silence became somehow even more silent. Miles was not sure how that was possible, but it had happened.

"That, my dear, is a short whip called a _popper_." Manfred explained, "It is almost like a riding crop, but with a small cord. It is the finest you can find, made by the best in the world." Miles could see the name _Marie Ann _ engraved in the handle. She must be this 'best in the world' person, he thought. "You will practice using this and take a few lessons. If you excel at it, then you may graduate up to a stockwhip and then a larger bullwhip." Edgeworth's jaw was practically on the ground at this point, but he knew protesting could be a bad idea, so he chose to be quiet on the matter. He could see his older sister shaking her head out of the corner of his eye, while the younger stared at her father with uncertainty as he spoke of lungeing whips and snake whips and signal whips. It was clear she was not too keen on the idea of learning to use this thing, but Edgeworth was sure she would change her mind. (As mentioned previously, Manfred had a way of making people change their minds.) As he left to check on the steaks, he heard Manfred say something along the lines of "Feel free to practice on your brother. He is not an official target, but if he becomes one I will be certain to let you know." He felt a new punishment in the works and the letter in his pocket suddenly felt heavy. He wondered how a whip compared to the man's taser.

Miles huffed to himself as he pulled out the steaks, each one done. Now there was no way he was getting a puppy or anything else. He had made it worse instead of better, allowing his kid sister to wield a dangerous weapon and letting his adoptive father completely revamp his wardrobe. He could feel the pattern continuing, not unlike an ouroboros, leaving him exactly where he once began to do it all again. He never made any personal progress in this house. Although, he had to admit, he _did _feel a bit manlier and more grown up in his new suit.

Miles brought the steaks into the dining room as it once again loomed over him, its walls casting threats within shadows over the small boy, as if to tell him not to exist here in this time-space with it. The usual feelings consumed him. He placed a steak before each person and formally apologized for yesterday's delicious, but feminine meal. The four began to eat and there was no speech. He silently wondered what made steak so manly. Sure it was meat, but if cooked well it was tender and juicy. Not at all tough or hard, as he would think that something that would be considered manly would be. He was entranced by these thoughts, and everybody else by their own, when a deafening crunch erupted that may have shaken the room. All but Manfred looked up. All were staring at him. The crunching continued.

When finally the man looked up to address the incessant staring, none of the children seemed ready to ask about what they had heard. After a moment he began to eat again while the children continued to stare. Miles was about to start eating again when Manfred von Karma put his fork down, unable to lift the morsel with it. He lifted it with his fingers and Miles recognized it as the man's unidentified ingredient covered in sauce. Manfred put half of the object into his mouth and out came another loud crunch. He had sucked enough sauce off of the remainder of the object to identify it as…

…one of his favorite childhood toy vehicles. Edgeworth almost fainted. Why the man was _**eating**_ his old toys, he did not know, but he knew it couldn't be easy. Every toy car he had ever owned had been bought by his father, and they were always made by Hotwheels or Tonka or some company like that. His cars were not cheap plastic. They always had some sort of metallic casing, and yet Manfred von Karma was crunching them like croutons.

He watched the man swallow a pickup truck, and then a dump truck, all the while chewing noisily and crushing the metal frames with his hands and teeth. Miles wanted to say something; anything! He even considered something comical, like "You're doing it wrong" to make the situation seem less insane but there was no remedying it now. He watched as the man finished the last of his meat and reached down to his plate where a dripping, meaty, 18 wheeled truck sat. He lifted the truck and put his mouth around it and began to chew. All sorts of crunching came from him as he contorted the final long truck into his mouth. It was considerably larger than any of the other toy trucks he possessed and von Karma was contorting it to fit inside his mouth, which he had done successfully, but must have unhinged his jaw to have done. He chewed and meat, drool, sauce, and a considerable amount of shrapnel seemed to be flowing from the corners of his mouth as he crushed the metal. Not unlike a wood chipper, he showed the poor toy no mercy, and scrap metal and sauce covered the table. Miles could only stare and wince as his childhood was quite literally eaten up by time and something else entirely.

Manfred von Karma wiped his face and looked into the faces of his children, all of whom were shocked. Miles worked up the courage and finally asked about why his toys were in the man's steak. The question came out in an awkward and hesitant manner. He found he could barely speak.

"Miles," he said to the boy, "today marks an important lesson for you, so listen up." Based on the context of recent events, Miles knew that this would somehow relate to manly toughness. Manfred continued to speak. "In order to be manly there are certain things that you must do, Miles. I am one of the manliest men around and I am going to let you in on what real men do to be manly. You must do the manliest things that you can, and I know some of the manliest things on earth that you can add to your lifestyle. Eat steak, drive trucks, and eat steaks made of trucks." Miles felt like something was lost in translation, because this did not make sense to the mind of a young boy coming from the mind of a grown man. He was stunned by both what he said, and the fact the Miles believed he was quoting a girly webcomic. None of it registered. What the hell was he talking about? Miles wasn't even really that interested in being manly anyway. He now knew why his box of treasures from his days in America seemed much emptier. He showed with a nod that he had been listening and walked away with his head hung low, promising to do those things. As he walked up the stairs to his room, he felt a severe pain on his back accompanied by the _wha-pish_ of a whip and turned to see his sister with her new "toy".

"What was that for?" he asked.

"I wanted a python, fool." The reply was short and sweet. She was not pleased with the whip but intended to make use of it if she had to.

Edgeworth was certain that the pain was turning to a red, swollen, searing laceration, but he didn't care. He had to figure this out, and he continued to think for a long time. Shutting his door tightly and sitting down at his little desk, he pulled out the letter from Phoenix and Larry and began to read. It was the general-- "How are you?" "How is life there?" "Why haven't you answered out letters?" "Things are fine here"-- kind of message. It was his intention to secretly reply. Miles was clever and kept the envelope that his friends' letter had arrived in. He was careful not to rip it when he opened it. He drew a little doodle on the front in hopes that his friends would recognize that he had received it. He would seal his own letter inside, and then mark it with a "return to sender" stamp. After all, Miles would have no reason to go to the post office, and Manfred von Karma might get suspicious. Prepared to break the rules, he looked to his door and listened closely. No sound was in the hall, so he began to write.

_Dear Larry and Nick_

_I can't believe you even bother to write anymore. How long has it been? I am sorry that I haven't answered your letters, but I am not allowed. I have a lot to tell you about Germany, but not the time to tell it in. You see, Mr. von Karma doesn't know that I am writing to you and he cannot find out. Anyways, I will eventually find a way to tell you all about everything here, but for right now all I can tell is that in the past few years I have found that people are really different here. Today, Mr. von Karma reminded me of when we used to go on adventures and pretend to be heroes and big strong men and how I always wanted to grow up to be just like my dad. He was my idea of manly, but Mr. von Karma seems to think differently. I guess in reality, I never used to know what people meant by "childlike" or "manly" at all, but I think it is different in Germany than in America. I'm not sure yet, though. Please look into it for me. Apparently in Germany, real men eat steaks, drive trucks, and eat steaks made of trucks. (I'm serious.) Anyway, I hear somebody on the stairs, so I have to stop writing now. Take care of yourselves._

_-Miles_


End file.
